Pain Bleeds Joy
by Nyum Fwah Productions
Summary: The humans have gone too far, and nature is bound to retaliate.


**This story doesn't really follow the plot line of the Twilight books, or have any of the characters- however it was inspired by the relationship between the wolves. Please read and tell me what you think. I don't own the inspiration, just the ideas.**

**With all due respect,**

**Nyum Fwah Productions**

**Warning:If you do not like any graphic or violent content at all whatsoever, please do not read-- I do not wish to offend anyone (although I do not think this story is offensive in any way, its best to play it safe with these kinds of things, donch'athink?). **

_**Pain Bleeds Joy**_

A sound once was heard  
Along a bubbling stream  
An Antiphony of gurgling and sputtering  
A Bel Canto of burbling and frothing  
Not so much as Agraphia, but sorry to behold  
A babbling brook so wheezy

Such a sound was heard  
By a kindly passerby  
Who took out a cough drop  
And plucked it into the river  
Staining the marble softness  
With red Antitoxin, with sticky antitussive

A wheezy flowing voice now silenced mid-complaint  
By one with good intentions  
A babbling brook to silent lake  
And seeing the cause of his heartfelt actions  
A passerby heard nothing  
Who thought without reflection  
At least no more coughing

The night was reasonably cool within the Wilderness Bubble, but that was to be expected, as the simulation was to feel as though one was camping outdoors. There was even a beautiful artificial night sky, with a moon and multitudes of stars littering and glittering in every direction. It made the dome of the glass bubble seem infinite. The campers sat on plastic logs surrounding the "camp fire," a heat simulator that glowed as ruddy as stoked coals. The counselor stood by a log, an old man sitting across from him. "It was a night much like this one," the old man started in a gruff voice, the red glow of the heat simulator dancing eerily across his face. The blank stares of wide emotionless eyes looked in his direction, watching him as he weaved his tale. "The moon," he whispered gravely, leaning in slightly, "shone fiercely against the inky night sky, a lamppost under a lonely twilight."

"Hold on a moment," exclaimed the lanky peppy counselor named Dan, his palm held up towards the old man as though it was attempting to physically stop him from continuing his story. He wagged his finger in rebuke at the old man. "Before you continue, let us roast our medicine marshmallows." He hummed thoughtfully as he rummaged through the large plastic container that rested by the simulated fire. "Aha! Here they are- fear flavor," Counselor Dan exclaimed triumphantly. "Here children- eat these so you know what to feel."

The counselor went around and popped one marshmallow in each mouth, all open in well practiced gaping--empty bottles waiting to be filled.

"Scared?" questioned one young boy, chewing on the marshmallow thoughtfully. His emotionless voice sounded as though he posed the question because it was required of him rather than out of curiosity, an emotion too difficult to muster without sufficient medication. Sometimes even with the medication no feeling would follow, since the pain killers that had been injected into his genetic structure as a child numbed almost all emotion.

The old man cleared his throat, and looked upon this process mournfully. He took a deep breath and continued, "The wolf padded gently through the forest, intent on ending his journey. He suddenly stopped, apparently reaching his destination; an empty stretch where the sky was slightly visible through the coarse dead white and brown branches. The leaves shined silver, reflecting the moon's ethereal glow. He stared at the moon, his lamp-like eyes shining with pools of agony and despair against the soft flaw of the moonlight, as a cool wind tousled the sharp grey fur on his back. The creature's eyelids drooped slowly, as though attempting to resist the unbearable pain that seemed to seep into his very soul, hypnotizing and melancholy, until they were shut tight, a useless attempt to block the pain. The wolf shook his shaggy head mournfully, his ears drooping much like his eyelids had just a moment before hand. He lifted his head towards the bane of his existence, the cause of the ache in all the world, the luminescent moon. And then he screamed and howled his languid cry, feeling forgotten and forlorn.

"He longed for the freedom and power he once had. He longed for the respect his presence used to command. It is difficult to keep on going when ideas tear out the thoughts of loved ones in angry howls. But he must, he must push on despite the pain of a silent existence. He hears the crickets mocking him as usual, with their chirping...No. Not crickets. The wolf stopped howling, cocked his head, and listened. _Simulated sounds of crickets?_ How dare they. How dare they! It is one thing to cage him up in some glass bowl, as though humans ruled the Earth and Nature belonged to them, but quite another to make this...this _mockery of a mockery_. How dare they create all these fallacies and falsities and claim they are real, say they are for the betterment of the world or even of their own kind, taking away choices and free will without remorse! It is one thing to pervert the things one does not understand, but to mutilate even their own kind in such a way...

"A roar of rage erupted harshly from his throat, aimed in the direction of the campfire. Were they not pack? Why did they dull themselves in such a disgusting way?The wolf's eyes narrowed as he bared his teeth and snarled abruptly. It was better to destroy these arrogant aberrations while they were young. If humans who know our power could commit such atrocities, then what would those soulless ones who do not do?

"The wolf sighed sharply and called to his fellows, the trees around him. However, even these trees were foreign- genetically enhanced and mutated to grow without true sunlight or water. But the wolf felt something, something very small within them, that knew the pride of being a part of the Earth. He walked slowly up to the tree and nuzzled it softly with his head, his grey fur contrasting with the brown coarseness of the tree's trunk, calling out to that tiny flame of life buried under layers of bark. He called out to all of them, pleading, pushing to make them understand and see.

"And see they did. Soon, thick, sweet-smelling tears seeped through the barks of all the trees trapped in that infernal glass cage, as they finally understood their enslavement and affliction.

"And then, all of the hearts of the ground, the trees, the grass, even the simulated chirrups of the crickets, recalling what they once were, formed and combined into one singular sentient conscience within the wolf. He felt them pervade him; chaos and order slamming, conflicting, merging into grey and back again. Their feelings of rage and pain and humiliation, their feelings of rampant joy and discovery, running through his veins, burning with complete, unadulterated, raw power. The wolf panted heavily, containing those feelings within his great heart and soul. But for all that his heavy heart had sustained, he could not contain himself, giving in and adding his own soul, his own individuality, to the oneness that was overtaking him.

"It turned its head upwards and howled a cry so terrible and beautiful that it is simply indescribable. Whispers of the wind, rustling of the trees, howling of wolves, crunching of the grass, creaking of the night, crinkling of the leaves, and the chirruping of crickets, all coming together and forming a Bel Canto, an antiphony, of formidable power. The indestructible, smooth, clear bubble cracked- a splinter of white amid the tar darkness of the 'night sky.' And it began to rain sharp droplets of glass, shards falling quickly from the night sky as though millions of shooting stars were falling to Earth, destroying its captives.

"And you," the old man growled, either at the blazing redness of the heat simulator or at the children, no one could truly tell, but no one seemed to care much at any rate; the children's intake of medicine marshmallows seemed to have worn off. "_You_," he continued, "You, who forgot the torment and loneliness, you who forgot the lore of the past....you were mercifully destroyed because of what you were created to be, and what you could become."

"Well, that sure was a creepy story, wasn't it kids," said the annoyingly overly jovial Counselor Dan. The children turned their heads up towards him simultaneously at the question, looking almost sinister as the ruby glow of the heat simulator reflected off of their faces and their blank stares. They said nothing, as Counselor Dan simply flashed them toothy grins, the silence echoing oddly in the "night."

The old man stared blearily at the "campfire," seemingly oblivious to the silence around him, his eyes glowing a lamp-like yellow, an ostensible ocular deception, and his face reflecting the children's- completely blank of emotion. He sighed softly, put his slightly wrinkled hands on his dusty old pants, worn and soft from use, and got up, a small grunt escaping his lips in the process. The old man sighed once more, rubbing his palm wearily over his eyes while his forehead creased, creating even more crinkles on his already wrinkly brow. He let his hand fall to his side as he turned away from the campers and began to amble towards the dense trees of the forest.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Oh, I'm just going to watch the moon rise," the old man replied over his shoulder.

"Oh. Well, have fun," Counselor Dan said in an annoyingly peppy voice, showing all of his teeth at the same time, which was an amazing feat. "Hey," he murmured as realization struck him. "Hey! What do you mean 'moon rise?' The moon doesn't rise, it just appears as the sky darkens. Hello?" A moment passed, and Counselor Dan stood still, his ears twitching for some sort of reply. However, the old man didn't even hear the question as the darkness of the forest swallowed him up once he had entered it.

The next day when the inspector from the S.S.U.U. (Special Science Unit of the Unexplained) came to investigate the occurrence wilderness simulation globe, he found nothing that indicated how such an event could take place..... Although there _were_ several anomalies, such as trace amounts of access dew on the trunks of the trees. The investigator looked calmly at scene of the bloody corpses of dead children, the ground crunching beneath him as he searched for clues.

It sure had rained last night- a heavy downpour. He chuckled at his own little joke. He crinkled his nose as the stench of rotting flesh pervaded his nostrils. Of course, the unpleasantly smelling cases just _had _to be assigned to him. Ah well, the keys to finding the answers, after all, were analysis and observation, and the closer you come, the easier it is to observe and analyze. So much work had gone into making those children. He made a soft clicking sound of regret with his tongue. He toed one body, the bloody remains of a carcass that used to be a young boy.

The inspector sighed. Oh well, children are easily replaceable these days, what with genetic factories and mail order catalogs and so on- _they _were quite cheap. But the destruction of a counselor robot, now that's an entirely different story. He looked at a mass of wires of every color imaginable, that fizzled dangerously. What used to be recognizable as Counselor Dan's head was now just a hunk of bronze metal, standing out from the crystalline shards encumbering it. AIs (Artificial Intelligence) were so ex_pensive_ nowadays, and often quite complicated, because, you know, they were so personalized. The AI engineers were such perfectionists, insisting on an individual personality per every robot. Even a simple counselor robot would be difficult to remake, or not worth it at all. It was a pity.

The reasons behind the occurrence were not discovered. The inspector simply put down in his reports, "An error with the equation- a freak of nature, shall we say." He was correct, in a way. The rebellion against the human oppression had begun, and the humans hadn't even realized it.

© Copyright 2008, Kalliope; A. Chouake

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THANK YOU FOR READING! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Any criticism is welcome-- especially the constructive kind (meaning you pinpoint faults so I can learn from my mistakes) PLEASE REVIEW! (I'll send you a virtual truckload of chocolate if you do!!...hey! That rhymes! ^o^) Also, if you think I should change the formatting so its easier to read, please tell me.


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